The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1887-02-02
GOOD OLD SMOKE.
A Charming Little Story of General Gus.
ter's Last Tragic March.

GOOD OLD SMOkE.
A Charming Little Story of General Gus.
ter's Last Tragic March.
When you hear this story you will see
how appropriate his name is. The
small, well-built terrier lying there, on
the Turkish rug, in spot of sunlight
that brings out the silver in his dark
hair beautifully, and makes the parting
on his head like fine line of silk.
Smoke, old boy, look up. Where did
you come fromp Who are you, Smoke?
Do you remem Der the captains whistle?
All! good old fellow, good dog; OF
course you do! There now. lie down
again and shut your eyes while tell the
young people your story, and how you
got your name.
General Custer had started forth on
that last tragic march of his. Smokes
mistress, the wife of General Terry's
aide-de-camp, has just been telling me
of the strange, sad morning when she
and some other ladies of the camp stood
and watched the line of men going out.
The sound of the march came in
peculiar, pitiful wild music from the In
dian scouts who headed the little army.
They were singing their "death song"
with which they always go to battle,
and it must be heard to be appreciated,
so weird and strange and wild it is,
Re
vari-colored flags flying, ride by,
grooming, chanting, singing, one
can fancy a. plain, darkened by
conteuding enemies, death riding
fercely and cruelty, victor, here and
there, contending grimly with life on
every side. All you who have read the
story know that Custer and his forces,
contrary to first arrangements, pushed
on and met the Indians at Big Horn
meeting slaughter as well. The battle.
nearly all of whose records the grave
holds in its grasp of eternal secrecy,
was fought, and two days later Gen
eral Terry's troop, marching down
upon the valley, found only the dead
emblems of the fight. There lay their
dead comrades-silent and alone, not a
creature to be seen far or near, but
away in the distance shadowy outline
marks the vanishing Indian forces.
Captain c., General Terry's aid
de-camp, was one of those who marked
the dead and gave them burial with all
the means of identification possible,
and it was while he was engaged in
this sad occupation, that looking up he
beheld near him small dog-fierce in
expression for a terrier, not supplicating
or wistful exactly, but bright-eyed and
angry. The Captain would have earess-
ed the little creature, but it trotted
away. He was followed to one of the
Indian tents where stark and cold lay
| the dogs master-an Indian who had
crawled there to die.
1t was impossible then to coax the
dog into any show of friendliness, but
late in the day the Captain saw him
again approaching-this time the eyes
had lost their fierceness-they were
subdued into something pitiful and
pleading, as disregarding the other Off
GERS the little dog ran up to his
first friend and held out his
paw. Then the Captain discovered
that cactus thorn had been inn
bedded in it, and the dog with quick in
stinct had sought him to procure relief
The thorn. and all the prejudice were
removed together. There was nc
further question of Cancellation, The
Captain adopted the dog then and there
and sent him home to his wife, who
because of the fires he had come out o.
on the field of battle, christened hin
"Smoke. -
So you see Smoke is a sort of here
now in his Western home, and is en-
ioying an old age of comfort and honor
although the details of his career before
that day of battle never can be known
He is a pure-blooded Scotch terrier
quick, alert and sagacious, with ont
popularity. Nothing will induce hin
to make friends with strangers. Loya
and devoted to his mistress ant
her immediate family-digni6ed ant
, tolerant of outsiders, yet h
is under no circumstances to b
beguiled into demonstrations of IN,
sort away from home, and at the sug
, gestion even Of a caress from a stran
gers hand will rise from his recum
bent posture, give himself little shak
and in the most dignifed manner stall
away, leaving you with sense of you
Town impertinence in having attempte'
any thing like intimacy with so ex
elusive canine sovereign. Do you hea
all this Smoke, old boy? All! there
you are ready enough to get up an
wag your old tail and run to the win
+ dow, for Dorotha and Marguerite ar
{ calling to you. Dorotha's eyes ar
eager, her little golden rings of hal
= dancing in the breeze, and | am sur
Smoke realizes that she too is ga Chill
of the Regiment. Lucy c. Lille, i
Chicago Inter- Ocean.